


in another world, i think i'd miss you if we never met

by majesdane



Category: Degrassi the Next Generation
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-06
Updated: 2009-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Reunited" mini!AU. A year later, things start to fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in another world, i think i'd miss you if we never met

  
  
[   
](http://www.flickr.com/photos/miss_gruviera/2945093430/)   


we only talked about how i hadn't changed / said i'd come back one day and i'd stay  
i know, i know i should be killed / the silence is already killing me  
\-- 'constants,' umbrellas

They go to college and things just fall apart.

Well, _Paige_ goes to college. Alex stays in Toronto and goes back to Degrassi for a post-graduate year, working part-time at the cinema in the mall to help her mom make ends meet, a job which required copious amounts of begging to her manager to get back. And sometimes she helps out Spinner and Jimmy at their t-shirt store downtown, when she has time. She splits her days between jobs and school; she barely even has a moment to breathe, let alone think about Paige.

Paige is doing fabulously at school anyway; she mentions it in every e-mail, when she actually gets around to it. She's excelling in all her classes, she's pledging for a sorority, she's made a ton of new friends; Alex mostly just skims Paige's e-mails nowadays; she doesn't have time to think about Paige and Banting, and besides, it makes her sick to think of.

 

;;

 

In October, Paige comes back to Toronto for Thanksgiving, showing off her new boyfriend and talking about the wonderful time she's having at Banting to anyone who will listen. Alex, gritting her teeth, smiles and nods and pretends to care. She introduces Carla to Paige, who smiles a bit too much and shakes her hand overenthusiastically and tells her that they simply _must_ have lunch together sometime, because she wants to get to know this girl who's stolen away Alex's heart.

Alex grips Carla's hand in her own, pulls her back a bit.

"Nice to see you too, Paige," she says stiffly, suddenly feeling irrationally angry and wishing that Paige would just _leave_, because she's good at that. (Alex can't take her her too wide smiles, the way she pretends to actually care; it makes her feel sick.)

Paige flashes her a smile; too insincere. She says, "It's so nice to see you again. It feels like we haven't talked in forever."

"That's because we haven't," Alex says.

 

;;

 

Paige ends up working for Spinner and Jimmy.

Of course she does; she's been friends with them for years, after all, has known them much longer than Alex has. It doesn't hurt that she's occasionally fucking Spinner, Alex thinks, somewhat bitterly, because she actually had to _work_ to get to where she is now, and Paige just comes waltzing back to Toronto, fresh from graduating Banting, and she just doesn't _know_. Doesn't know what it's been like back home, doesn't know about how Alex is still trying to juggle school and work and having a girlfriend, because things don't come easy, not to her.

Paige offers to help her with coursework, because they're both business majors, and she went to fucking _Banting_, as she's sure to remind Alex and everyone else, as often as possible. Alex grits her teeth, tells Paige thanks but no thanks, because she's been getting along just fine without her for four years now and she _doesn't_ want Paige's help or sympathy or whatever it is that she's trying to do.

Carla kisses her when she comes home, asks her what's wrong, and because Alex doesn't want to say _Paige_, she just says _nothing, just tired_. It's not really a complete lie, so she feels less guilty about it. (But there's no point in bringing up Paige, because it's still a sore spot, for both of them, and she's become very good at not dealing with things, so it's easier to pretend like everything's okay.)

 

;;

 

A year later, things start to fall apart.

She's not surprised, not really, because she and Paige were always good at making dizzy messes of everything. It's what they were good at; they could have taught classes on how to royally fuck things up without even trying. So it really shouldn't come as a surprise to her, when they end up in the copier room together (the business has taken off faster than any of them had ever expected; now they've got like, real offices and everything and it's like a legitimate fucking company now) and Paige's hand rests on top of hers for just a second too long, when they both reach for the door handle.

And it shouldn't be a surprise when Paige says, "I missed you, you know. I-I wanted to call, but --" and Alex cuts her off, says, "I know," because she does know, knows that neither of them are completely over this, whatever _this_ is, she doesn't even know what to call it or if it even deserves a name.

So she shouldn't be surprised about what happens next -- when Paige kisses Alex, pressing her up against the wall -- but she is. Alex shoves her away, says things like, _what are you doing?_ and _I'm with Carla now_ and _why can't you understand that it's over?_

When she gets back to her desk, her hands are still shaking.

 

;;

 

She's not used to not being in control.

For two weeks, it's all she can think about, the way Alex looked at her after she kissed her, confused and disgusted and angry, remembers the way Alex shoved her away, basically told her to fuck off right then and there. She can still feel Alex's hands gripping her shoulders and she knows she's seriously fucked up this time, as far as she and Alex go, and it's going to take more than an apology and an invitation for coffee (which Alex turned down, twice now, but Paige is determined to ask her again) to make things better.

But Alex refuses, again, barely even speaks to her for two months, except for when she absolutely has to. She's pretty sure that Alex is purposely avoiding her too, because they work in the same fucking office, same goddamn floor, for Christ's sake, and yet she hardly even sees her. She's torn between wanting to be angry at Alex for acting so immature about all of this and wanting to be angry at herself for being stupid and thinking that it would be okay to kiss her like she did.

(It's easier to be mad at Alex.)

Alex kissed her back; that's the one thing she keeps reminding herself of. Even if it was only for a moment, _Alex kissed her back_.

 

;;

 

When she kisses Spinner in the break room, knocking over her styrofoam cup of coffee and spilling it all over the counter, he kisses her back. He's not like Alex, who says one thing and does another, Alex who pushed Paige away and hasn't spoken to her since, except for when she absolutely has to.

And she knows it's wrong, but she can't help herself. She and Spinner carry on their love affair for months, pretending that it's some big secret, even though everyone in the office knows exactly what's going on between them. Alex, when she finally gets around to speaking to her again, makes it a point to ask how Spinner's doing, asks Paige why her blouse is wrinkled and her hair a mess, two minutes after Paige and Spinner tumble out of the supply closet together.

Paige hates her.

 

;;

 

When she's twenty-three, she has her first divorce.

Alex, who seems to have forgotten about the kiss -- or is at least trying to _pretend_ she's forgotten, which is good enough, as far as Paige is concerned -- asks what happened. Paige is too embarrassed to sat that she walked in on her now ex-husband fucking his secretary on the kitchen table (if only because it's so horrible cliché), so instead says that they just grew dis-interested in their marriage, grew apart, decided they were too young, etc, etc, it was a mutual decision. She isn't sure whether or not Alex believes her (or even cares), but Alex nods her head, makes a sympathetic sound, and well, Paige'll have to settle for that.

And because she's trying to make things right, she takes Alex on as her personal assistant, tells Jimmy that she just can't do all the work on her own, that she would be more useful to the company like this. Jimmy okays it, of course, but Alex is reluctant to accept the offer, doesn't until Paige promises her that it'll be good for her.

Good for them.

 

;;

 

They don't talk much nowadays, not outside of the office, and when they do talk, it's usually about business.

"How's Carla?" Paige asks, and Alex doesn't even look up from the documents she's reviewing when she says _fine_ in a dismissive tone.

This thing between them, whatever relationship they used to have; it's completely changed now. Paige knows this inherently, doesn't have to even think about the distance between them, the stiff conversations, the way Alex never seems to be free when Paige invites her out for coffee or lunch or anything else.

She wishes she could fix it, wishes she even knew what went wrong in the first place.

 

;;

 

She gets married a second time, to a banker on Wall Street, even though she's still fucking Spinner.

Spinner's not marriage material, is what she says. The truth is, as far as the sex goes, he's fantastic. But she's not in love with him, not even a bit, and she'd feel bad marrying him under false pretenses. Then again, except for that one drunken time, he's never really asked, about marriage; she isn't sure whether or not she'd actually turn him down now.

Alex is invited to the wedding. She doesn't show up for the ceremony, just the party afterward, doesn't talk to anyone but Carla, who spends the whole evening looking extremely uncomfortable. Paige doesn't bother going over to see how things are are, to ask Alex how her life is. She knows or at least thinks she does; they see each other every day, after all.

That doesn't mean that it doesn't sting when their eyes meet across the room, for a fraction of a second, before Alex leans in and kisses Carla, bumps their noses together in a terribly adorable way that Paige remembers they used to do back in high school, before everything went all to shit. Before Banting, before two marriages and Carla and fucking Spinner in her office during her lunch hour.

Before all this --

She turns her head, kisses her new husband, hopes that Alex is watching.

 

;;

 

"You don't love him," Alex tells Paige and Paige patently ignores her, as they stand in the copier room, watching it print out dozens of flyers to be send down to the various business departments to remind everyone that there will be a company-wide business dinner in one month's time, in the reception room of some swanky hotel that Paige managed to book without any effort, obviously, because Paige never has to try at anything.

"You don't love him," Alex says again, as the copier finishes and shuts down; she fetches the fliers from the tray, the paper still hot. "So stop pretending like you do, okay?"

"Jealous, Alex?" Paige asks, barely even has to struggle for nonchalance.

"No, I just feel sorry for you," Alex says, tucks the copies into a folder. "Because you're fucking pathetic."

"What about you, Alex?" Paige asks, crumbling up the paper cup she'd been sipping water from and tossing it in the trash can near the doorway. "At least I grew up."

"How often did you need to tell yourself that before you actually started believing it?" She grits her teeth to keep from raising her voice. "Fuck off, Paige. Stop acting like you're better than anyone else here just because you've got a nice, fancy degree from a school which only accepted you because your mother's on the alumni board."

"It's more than you ever did," Paige spits back, and it hurts, even if it's not true.

"Fuck you, Paige," Alex says, leaves before Paige has a chance to say anything else.

They don't talk for nearly three weeks after that.

 

;;

 

Two months later, Alex runs into Paige on her way out of the office.

"I thought I was the only one here," Alex says, tucking her coat under her arm. "It's late."

"Yeah, well, I've got things to do," Paige shrugs and Alex knows Paige well enough to know not to press the issue. "So, you're going home then?"

"Yeah. Carla's waiting."

"How is she?"

"She's well, actually," Alex says, trying not to sound as surprised as she is, because Paige has never asked about Carla before. "She's a lawyer, you know? She works at a firm, um, I think five or six blocks from here. Price &amp; Price, I think it's called; I can never remember the name. She's -- she's good."

Paige smiles. "She sounds nice."

"She is."

"I've never really met her, I don't think."

"Always time to fix that," Alex says, forcing herself to sound cheerful and not vindictive. "You should come visit us sometime. We've got a apartment across town; you should come by for dinner. Or drinks. Or, you know, just stop by. Whatever."

Paige says, "Speaking of drinks, do you want to stay a bit longer? I've got a bottle of Amaretto in my desk drawer."

"I don't drink Amaretto straight," Alex says, fishes around in her pocket for her cellphone, checks the time. "Besides, it's late and I told Carla I'd be home."

"So call her and tell her you're doing some catch up with an old friend," Paige says cheerfully. "And besides, I've got Coke to mix your Amaretto with. It tastes like Dr. Pepper," she adds after a moment with a laugh.

Alex hesitates, her finger hovering over the _call_ button on her phone, Carla's name highlighted. "Well, alright. But just one drink, okay? Then I really have to get going."

"I'll get the pop then," Paige says, looking rather pleased with herself.

 

;;

 

It starts off easy enough, sliding onto the couch together in Paige's office when Paige stands at her desk pouring them both drinks. And the alcohol helps her to relax, helps to loosen her tongue, and after a few awkward minutes of just sitting around not saying much, they finally settle into a somewhat decent conversation.

Paige tells Alex about Banting, about her brother moving to Switzerland to play ice hockey professionally, and Alex tells Paige about what she missed all those years at Banting, about how she'd moved in with Carla as soon as Carla'd graduated from the University of Toronto and had applied to law school. And then one drink turned into two, and two to five, and pretty soon Alex's head is spinning from too much alcohol.

"I'm drunk," she slurs and then immediately laughs at her own words. "You're going to have to call a cab for me, Paigey. I'm a fucking mess right now."

"We can share a cab, if you'd like," Paige says, and it's only after a long moment that Alex realizes she's let her hand settle on Paige's, is suddenly acutely aware of just how close Paige is to her on the couch, of the gentle blush on Paige's cheeks that reminds her of high school weekends spent in Paige's bed, getting high and fucking incredibly slowly, until they were both aching.

She feels her own face grow hot at the memory.

"Call for a cab, then," she says, checks her phone; there aren't any messages.

 

;;

 

The cold Toronto air hits them almost like a physical punch, when they stumble outside, laughing about some story Paige had been telling about, from back when they were still in middle school.

"Come on, let's walk a bit, first," she says, when Alex goes over to the curb with the intent of hailing down a taxi. "That's what we said we'd do, right? I mean, I said I'd walk you home." She laughs again and Alex comes back over, loops her arm in with Paige's.

They walk in silence, until the cold finally gets the better of them and Paige decides it's enough. It's not until they stop by the curb does she notice that they've somehow ended up holding hands; Alex untangles their fingers, sticks her hand up into the street as a taxi rolls slowly up.

"I -- I can't," Paige mumbles, but Alex is already climbing into the backseat, and looking over her shoulder at Paige expectantly. "I _can't_," Paige tries again, louder this time, and Alex looks up at her, confused.

"What can't you do?"

The driver is waiting for her to get in.

(She can't do it.)

 

;;

 

The next day Alex corners her in the supply room.

"You can't ever do it, can you?" She asks quietly and Paige drops her eyes to the ground, works very hard at not giving anything on her face. "You can't ever follow me, can you? You don't . . . want to chase me."

"I'm no good at chasing people," Paige says, stares very hard at a box of highlighters trying not to cry. Alex doesn't say anything to that, and it feels like they just stand there in silence for _hours_, with Alex just _looking_ at her, waiting, always waiting; it's too much. She says, "Alex, I'm sorry, you know I do -- "

Alex kisses her.

They stumble back against the filing cabinet; she can feel the cool metal against her calves, can feel the draw handles poking her in the back, but all she can think about is Alex's fingers threading through her hair and pulling her in closer and about how this is just going to ruin her lipstick, this kiss, and how Alex should have really thought this through better.

(She doesn't pull away though.)

When they finally break apart, they're both flushed a bit and panting, Alex wearing that same, expectant look that she's had since they were seniors in high school, the first time they kissed. Paige can't think of anything to say; she ends up kissing her again.

 

;;

 

Later, they leave the room separately, five minutes apart.

They don't talk about it.

 

;;

 

Alex tells Carla she needs space and Carla asks if it's because of Paige.

"Why must you assume everything is about Paige?" Alex asks, irritated. Everything used to be about Paige at some point; she's not denying that. She remembers a time when her whole world revolved around Paige. But that was a long time ago, when she was young and stupid. She was seventeen; she's not that girl any longer, and she hates being reminded of it.

So Carla leaves, and Paige does too, a week later. She tells the press that it's simply an 'amicable' split between her and the company, that it had nothing to do with her affair with Gavin Mason. Alex knows it's all a lie, knows that Jimmy fired Paige after those pictures of her and Spinner were posted in _The Globe_, knows that Paige's ugly second divorce is bringing too much bad publicity to the company.

And she knows that Paige is just pretending to be fine. And she wishes she didn't.

 

;;

 

She calls Carla, who doesn't pick up until after the fourth ring and says, in an annoyed tone, "What do you want, Alex?" and Alex cringes, thinks maybe she shouldn't have called after all.

"I miss you," she says, disgusted at just how pathetic she sounds. "I was an idiot, okay? I'm sorry. I want you to come move back in."

There's a long pause; Alex fidgets nervously.

"I think you need to sort out whatever it is you've got going on first," Carla says, in that annoyingly sensible way of hers that makes Alex just feel five times worse. "Obviously there's something up, and I don't expect you to tell me what it is, so I'm not going to ask. But just, figure it out Alex, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, alright. I'll call you, okay?"

"I'll be here."

They hang up without exchanging _I love you_-s; Alex doesn't realize this until twenty minutes later.

 

;;

 

Paige leaves Toronto, because that's what she does when things go wrong: she runs.

She leaves her second husband asleep in their high-scale apartment, nestled between silk sheets and a rather expensive duvet, dials for a cab. Sitting in the backseat, she considers stopping by Alex's apartment before going to the airport, but then she realizes that she doesn't know where Alex lives, and then realizes that even though she could look it up on her Blackberry in less than five minutes time, it isn't worth it.

(She can't really face Alex anyway; she's never been good at saying goodbye.)

 

;;

 

Alex gets a call three months later from an unknown number, picks it up thinking it's a salesperson and nearly drops her glass of rum and Coke when she recognizes Paige's voice on the other end of the line. There's a fair bit of stunned silence on her end, with Paige going, "Hello? Hello? Alex?" for a good while before she manages to compose herself.

"Where the fuck are you?" Alex says. Paige laughs. "Fucking hell, Paige, no one's heard from you for fucking _months_, you asshole, why didn't you call? Or like, sending me a fucking email?"

"Sorry," Paige says, not sounding sincere at all. "But I just had to like, get out of there, you know? Everything was just getting to be too much, and I, I just felt smothered, you know? It was the right thing to do."

"You always run off when things get too hard, don't you, Paigey?" No need to play nice, not after Paige had skipped town and hadn't even had the goddamn decently to let her know that she was okay. "And you still haven't answered my question: where are you?"

"New York City. I've got an apartment on the Upper East Side. It's fabulous, really, you should come down sometime; I could show you around all the best places of the city, you'd totally love it. Frankly, I don't know why I haven't been living here all along; the city's wonderful."

Alex grits her teeth, forces herself to keep calm. "Paige, first of all, I'm still pissed at you. Second of all, no, I'm not coming to visit. I don't have the time, to be quite honest; I've got my hands full with the company, as I'm sure you know."

"Oh, yes, how's that going, by the by? Sorry, I haven't exactly been reading _Wall Street_ these past few months, I've been busy with other matters, you understand how it is. Everything still going okay?"

"Jimmy gave me your position," Alex says cheerfully, knowing it will shut Paige right up. "You know, the CEO spot?"

There's a pause. Then, in a painfully strained tone, Paige says, "Well, that's great, Alex, really. I mean, you totally deserve it and I think that you'll be really good in the role, you know, I always knew that you could handle that sort of thing better than I could anyway. Far too stressful; you know how it is."

Alex resists to the urge to kick Paige when she's down, instead says, "Yeah, it's going alright." Then, "Listen though, I've got to go, alright? I've got a meeting in fifteen minutes with investors and I've got to prep for it. So, I'll talk to you later, yeah? You know my number; call me back whenever. Or there's always like, email. You know, whatever. And if I'm ever down in New York, I'll definitely let you know, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Paige says, instantly morphing back into her normal, cheerful self. "I'll talk to you later then."

(They both know Paige won't call back, that Alex won't ever visit.)

 

;;

 

Carla moves back in almost a year later.

It works, because Alex forces herself to make it work. She doesn't let herself think about Paige or high school or Banting or the time they killed in the supply room, a summer ago. She doesn't let the memory of Amaretto and Coke slip into her thoughts, how easily they'd fallen back into whatever it was they'd used to be -- always were, always -- how Paige's hand was suddenly in hers and it wasn't bad or wrong or anything at all. It just _was_.

And Carla doesn't bring it up, Thank God, because Carla is just _that_ sort of person, tactful and considerate in all the ways she and Paige are not, and they've both gotten over it, even though there wasn't ever really anything to get over in the first place. And it works, for a while, until Alex runs into Ellie on the street one day -- "I thought you'd gone off to like, California, for journalism," Alex says, surprised, and Ellie gives her a rueful look, says, "I guess I couldn't help but come back here, you know?" -- and she _gets_ it.

Ellie comes to her office one day, the next week, offers an invitation to lunch, and of course Jimmy and Spinner hold them up for a good twenty minutes outside of the office building, catching up, and Alex almost can't believe that it's been seven years now since high school.

It feels like a lifetime.

"Do you remember when I asked you to move in with me?" Ellie asks, over a glass of iced tea and a garden salad, picking at it with her fork. "You completely turned me down, made me feel like a complete idiot, totally ungrateful." She sighs, pauses. "My mom died, you know."

"Oh, Ellie," Alex says, reaching for her hand.

"No, it's okay," Ellie says, casually swipes at her eyes. "It was a few years ago, actually. I'd just gotten out of college, and well, you know she'd always had a drinking problem . . . She got better, I mean, for a bit, but I guess me being away from home just made things worse, and she was all alone, and -- well, you get it."

"I'm sorry," Alex says, and for once in her life, actually means it.

"I'm dealing with it, really," Ellie says. "I fucking moved out to California for a year or so and it was nice, being able to get away from everything, you know? Like, everything is right fucking here, in Toronto. This is our whole world. Everything happened here. Every_one_ is here."

"Not Paige. She's in NYC. I don't know what she's doing there, but she's been there for like, two years now."

Ellie smiles. "I was wondering what had happened to her. Actually, I'm a bit surprised; I would have thought you two would still be joined at the hip." A pause. "You were good for her, you know? Everyone thought so."

Alex laughs, works very hard to not Ellie's words bother her, because the last thing she wants to do is start crying over her cup of tomato soup. "I don't know about that. Anyway, Paige and I have been history for a very long time now; it was just a mutual decision. We were in different places in our lives -- still are, really -- and it was just for the best."

"It's never easy, is it," Ellie says quietly. "Doing what's best."

Alex is grateful when Ellie excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

 

;;

 

Three days later, they meet again.

This time it's at a bar, though it's Ellie who, once again, extended the invitation. Alex gets there right from work, and she feels irrationally angry with herself, for wearing something too formal for this sort of place, for not even having the foresight to have brought a change of clothes. Ellie doesn't seem to care, though, waves her over to a booth in the corner; Alex slides in next to her with a nod and a smile, feels a bit better.

They talk a bit, but they're mostly quiet, and it's nice, because it's not that awkward sort of quiet that she and Carla have sometimes, when they run out of things to say and Alex has to scramble to find a question that hasn't been asked yet, if only to get Carla talking again. After a while, Alex mentions that she's never been here before and Ellie nods, downs the rest of her martini, tells her she hasn't either.

And then her hand falls on Alex's thigh, and it's not surprising, really, because Ellie's drunk and it's not like this isn't the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm seeing someone," Alex says.

Ellie turns, draws her finger along the edge of her martini glass lazily, gives Alex an easy smile. "So?"

 

;;

 

"Fucking hell," Alex sighs, her heart still beating a mile-a-minute, the sheets sticking to her skin. "Tell me that you've done that before."

"I've done that before," Ellie laughs, and Alex grins, unable to muster up the strength to do anything else.

"Good. I wouldn't believe you even if you said you hadn't," she says, with a laugh, finally opening her eyes and turning her head to look at Ellie, who looks different here in the semi-darkness of her bedroom than when they'd had lunch together last week. She looks -- Alex can't find the word. Softer.

(She's reminded suddenly of Paige; the thought makes her heart clench up. She doesn't let it show.)

Ellie sighs, kissing her shoulder. "You're not so bad yourself," she says, smirking. "Obviously you've had more practice than I have."

"Obviously. I didn't know you were -- "

"I'm not, technically," Ellie says cheerfully. "I just like to do what feels right at the time, you know?"

"Sort of," Alex says, because she's pretty sure she'll never fuck a guy again, regardless of the situation, but she knows about taking chances. Seizing the moment and all of that crap. "Anyway, this was a one-off. You get that, right? Don't think that this meant anything more than what it was."

Ellie yawns and stretches. "Of course not."

Alex closes her eyes again, feels the bed shift as Ellie gets up, listens to the rustling of fabric as Ellie begins dressing again. "I don't even know why I did it. This," she says, and she doesn't mean to say it out loud, but there it is, and maybe Ellie can tell her why she's so fucked up, why everything is different now.

"We don't always need a reason," Ellie says, and her voice seems farther away now; Alex can hear a cap of a bottle being unscrewed, liquid being poured into a glass, it splashing. "Sometimes things just happen." And then she's there beside Alex, offering a glass of wine, and Alex fucking _hates_ red wine, but she drinks it anyway, because maybe with the taste of it in her mouth she can convince herself that this only happened because she was drunk.

(It's pathetic, even for her.)

While dressing, she says, "I'm going to be gone for the next couple of days on a business trip. New stores and all that. Can I see you again? When I get back, I mean."

"I think I'll be gone by then," Ellie says, and it's not until she's outside standing in the pouring rain waiting for a taxi does she realize that everyone's always leaving her. That they come back for a bit, but in the end, they always leave.

 

;;

 

In the morning she gets a text message from Ellie.

_had a great time_, it says. _was fun catching up. let's do it again, sometime._

 

;;

 

"What's wrong?" Carla asks one evening after they'd made love on the couch. She kisses Alex's ear, then her forehead, then her mouth, all in slow succession, soft and gentle.

"Nothing's wrong," Alex sighs, runs a hand through Carla's hair, manages a small smile. "It's just work, you know? Like, that's all I'm ever doing: working. And then I come home here and start all over again the next day and it's all just so fucking routine, you know?"

"Life's always been like that, sweetheart," Carla says, and kisses her again. "You're just only noticing it for the first time."

 

;;

 

The mail on the counter four months later announces that she's been invited back to Degrassi for the ten-year reunion for the Class of 2006. It comes in a small off-white envelope with fancy black lettering. There's a small navy-colored card along with the invitation -- RSVP -- and Alex is about to toss both of them in the trash when Carla walks into the kitchen.

"What's that?" She asks, pulling open the refrigerator door and taking out raspberry flavored coolers for both of them. She covers her hand with her shirt, uncaps both bottles, hands one over to Alex who nods in thanks.

Alex takes a long gulp of it; downs half the bottle in one go. "An invitation," she says at last, licks her lips. "High school reunion."

"Cool. You should go."

"I don't think so. I probably have work, and like, who cares anyway? I don't want to see any of those people again. Fuck, I don't even think I _remember_ anyone, aside from the usual suspects. Jimmy, Gavin, Ellie. Paige." She hesitates at Paige's name, but Carla doesn't seem to notice, just comes behind her and wraps her arms around Alex's waist, nosing her hair away from her neck and kissing the exposed skin.

"_Go_," Carla urges gently in her ear and Alex sighs and leans back against her, eyes closed, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Come with me," she says.

"If I can," Carla promises, and Alex turns around in her arms and kisses her softly, threads her fingers through Carla's and tugs her to the bedroom.

 

;;

 

Their lovemaking is unexpectedly quick and rough, almost desperate-like, and it catches Alex by surprise, because usually it's all soft touches and slow movements, dragging every single moment out for as long as possible, until they're both aching. But tonight it's different. Tonight Carla pins her to the bed and they don't even take time to undress; Carla yanks Alex's dress pants and underwear down to mid-thigh, kissing her hard as her hand slips between Alex's legs, presses against her in full.

Later, after they've both gotten off, they shed what pieces of their clothing they've still got on, make love again, this time a bit slower. Patient. When they're done, Carla kisses her once, chastely, curls up against Alex's side, falls asleep almost instantly.

(She doesn't sleep.)

She untangles herself from Carla gently, slips into a pair of pyjama bottoms and a thin tank top. The invitation is still lying on the counter beside her half-empty bottle of raspberry Smirnoff Ice. She finishes what's left, wipes away the water ring from the bottom of the bottle with her hand, wipes her hand on her pants. By the phone, there's a little holder filled with pens; Alex fishes one out, fills out the RSVP card.

It's not like she's all that interested in going, but she almost sort of is, a bit.

(It has absolutely nothing to do with Paige, she thinks, Paige probably won't even be there.)

She slumps onto the couch, flicks on the TV; there's nothing on. She sighs and turns it back off, pads across the apartment until she's in the doorway of the bedroom she shares with Carla. The blinds haven't been closed properly; there's moonlight and light from the city falling through the cracks, illuminating the room. It's all so -- she struggles to find a word. Ordinary.

It's all very ordinary and predictable.

 

;;

 

The three of them go to the reunion together -- her, Jimmy (or J. Brook, as he likes to be called now, except Alex can never say that name without laughing, but Jimmy -- J. Brooke-- doesn't seem to mind), and Gavin -- because it looks good for the sake of publicity.

"Where's Carla?" Gavin asks while they're sitting in the back of the company's limo. "I thought you said she was coming as well."

"She had to work," Alex tells him, sipping from a thin glass of champagne. It's only a twenty minute drive, but she needs to the alcohol to steady herself. "She's been doing tons of overtime for her latest case."

Jimmy looks pleased. "Her work effort is admirable." He flashes Alex a smile that's just a little too bright; she always feels uncomfortable around Jimmy for some reason, especially now a days. "I've heard she's one of the top lawyers in Toronto; you've always had good taste in women, Alex."

Gavin snorts at that, then quickly covers it up with a cough as Jimmy looks over at him with a frown.

"Thanks," Alex says, a bit flushed. She finishes her drink, stares down at the bottom her empty glass. Then, "You know, it's all very like, un-decided right now, but I've actually considered proposing. To Carla, I mean."

A nod from Jimmy; indifference from Gavin.

"Well, you know, we've been together for more than ten years now, with only a few, uh, distractions from time to time, and I think it'd be for the best," Alex continues on, feeling rather self-conscious all of a sudden. "And I was thinking, well, we already own an apartment together and we've been living together for years now, and I mean, well, it'd wouldn't be a huge change, being married, but it seems like it'd be the right thing to do."

"I think it's a great idea, Alex, really," Jimmy tells her, with a warmer smile than Alex has seen in a while, and she finally relaxes.

 

;;

 

She spots Paige at the reception table, attempting to check-in; there seems to be a bit of a mix-up due to her ever-changing last name. She lets out a frustrated sigh, offers a different last name to the woman at the table as Alex approaches.

"Whatever happened to that loser anyway?" Alex asks with a grin, half-playful and half-malicious.

Paige turns, looks at her with large brown eyes, the only un-changing, constant thing about her, and they're caught in a moment, a second's hesitation, a bitter mix of anger, resentment, relief, and something else, too strong to ignore, but completely without name. And Paige ruins it a moment later when her surprised smile shifts into something a little more stiff, frozen, and it feels like high school all over again: Paige calling her a loser and everyone laughing.

(High school Paige, so sweet and unexpected underneath all those layers of contempt and self-righteousness, the Paige that no one but her ever knew existed; that's what they'd done, broken down each others walls.)

"Alex," Paige says, her voice a bit too cheerful, tone too sharp. "I didn't expect you to be here."

(Of course.)

 

;;

 

When Paige storms off, flustered, Alex is left with a heavy sort of feeling. It settles in the pit of her stomach uncomfortably; once inside, she heads over to the bar and downs three shots of vodka in quick succession. She's never gotten used to the burn, but tonight it makes her feel a bit better, steadies her.

"Hello again," a voice says beside her, and suddenly Ellie's sitting next to her, a Cosmopolitan on the counter in front of her. She smirks, dips her finger into her drink, brings it up to her mouth and sucks on it slowly. "How are you, Alex?"

"I've been better," Alex admits, orders an Amaretto and Coke for nostalgia's sake. "What about you? Where did you go after I saw you the last time?"

"California," Ellie says, sips her drink unexpectedly delicately. "That's where I live, you know. I share a house with four other people. I don't really know them, but it's cheaper when you split the rent. Anyway, we're civil to each other and we stay out each others way, which is all that can be asked for, anyway. And then I did a bit of traveling. That's what I do for my job, see, I'm a journalist, I travel for research. Anyway," she pauses, takes another sip of her drink, licks her lips.

(Alex is struck with the memory of Ellie's tongue between her legs, moving in long, hard strokes, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, hoping it doesn't show on her face.)

"Anyway," Ellie is saying, "I spent some time in New York. Would you believe that I ran into Paige? The girl's working for some fashion company or whatever, I don't know the details, I was surprised to hear she was doing so well for herself, but well, after Banting and Brook, I'm sure she's got an impressive enough resume. Have you spoken to her?"

"Years ago," Alex says, a bit glumly. Her drink sits on the corner of a napkin, untouched. "And well, here, but aside from that, no, we haven't talked at all."

"Oh, Paige is here? I haven't seen her."

"She's probably in the bathroom sulking or something," Alex says dismissively. "Gavin, Ji -- J. Brook -- and I ran into her at the reception table. She's still a bit bitter about everything that happened, you know. Paige will hold a grudge for forever, if that's her prerogative."

Ellie laughs.

"She asked about you, you know," Ellie says, after a time. "Wanted to know how you were doing. I said I didn't really know, that you were busy with the company and the expansions and all that. She seemed, I don't know. Sad. Sort of. More like lonely, probably."

"Yeah, well, she's the one who fucking left," Alex says, and she can finally start to feel the alcohol starting to kick in, her mind already getting a bit fuzzy. "She's always fucking leaving. And then she just expects me to like, take her back every single time, just like that, no question asked. I'm like, her fucking lapdog or whatever."

"It's not like you ever do anything about it, though," Ellie says, putting a hand on her arm, and it's not meant to be overly critical or anything, but Alex stings from her words anyway.

 

;;

 

Ellie leaves after a bit, goes looking Marco, because, "I haven't seen him in forever, he left for Europe ages ago and we never got around to seeing each other after that, have only been exchanging emails here and there, and I've heard he's got a new boyfriend, I have to see if he's here, he said he would be."

Alex stays at the bar for a bit longer, then heads outside for a smoke, nodding at the receptionist as she passes by the table, reaching for her packet of Marlboros in her purse. She's outside by the time she lights up, taking an eager drag of her cigarette, the night air surprisingly warm.

It's when she exhales that she notices Paige off to the side, struggling to get her lighter to work.

"Since when do you smoke?" Alex asks, striding up next to her and offering a light.

"Since when do _you_?" Paige counters evenly, lights up. "Anyway, I'm not a habitual smoker, I just like having one once and a while. Calms my nerves. It's a bad habit, but, you know how it is."

Alex makes a sound of agreement. They stand there for a bit, not talking; Alex can hear the music playing inside, the steady throb of a bass from a song that probably went out of style before they even graduated. She feels very old all of a sudden. It doesn't help when Paige says, "Remember that time they made a movie here and we all thought we were actors?"

Alex smiles. "You were such a diva. 'Oh, they cut my part out of the movie, my life is just _ruined_.'"

"Shut up," Paige says, but she grins. "Okay, so maybe acting wasn't part of my five-year plan, but at the time it just seemed like a really big deal. Besides," she says, with a tap of her cigarette, "it wasn't all bad, was it? I mean, we got to go to the movie premiere because of it, after I begged for an extra ticket for you."

"Yeah, well, whose fault was it that you had to beg?"

"Okay, so I was an idiot," Paige says, and her smile falters a bit at that.

"You still are."

"Alex -- "

Alex sighs, flicks away what's left of her cigarette. "Look, can we just not pretend like everything's okay between us? You just fucking left, Paige, without any sort of goodbye or explanation. For fuck's sake, we haven't talked in years, I don't even know what you're doing or where you're living and now you just like, expect us to act like we're best friends again. And I just can't stand it."

"Alex," Paige says again, softer this time. "I'm sorry; I should have called. I should have done something -- _anything_ \-- and fixed things between us. But you know how I am; I fuck things up. And then I run."

"Don't you ever get tired of running," Alex sighs, tired.

"It's the only thing I'm good at. Alex -- "

She can't help herself; she kisses Paige.

 

;;

 

It's not how she would have liked for things to go.

It's not as though she had any expectations when she got her reunion invitation in the mail and had quickly filled out the card and mailed it back that same afternoon, as if it would mean more if she did it right away. She didn't even know if Alex was going to show up; Alex always had such a disdain for Degrassi and the people she'd gone to school with, which wasn't surprisingly at all, given that Alex seemed to pretty much hate everyone and everything.

So of course it was a surprise when Alex turned up at the reunion -- with Gavin and J. Brook in tow, of course, because that's how things were these days and she couldn't even contain her petty jealousy that they were doing so well. And it was even less of a surprise when Alex was bitchy to her in a carefully practiced way that she'd never been in high school, because Alex was always a bitch, she'd just gotten classier about it.

What wasn't a surprise: seeing Ellie in New York City two months earlier, who informed her she'd run into Alex in Toronto some time back, mentioned that Alex looked unhappy. Tired and worn out, Ellie had said, and it wasn't as if it really meant anything, since Alex was the CEO of a now billion-dollar clothing company. But seeing Alex standing outside tonight, smoking, it triggered something in her. It was a different sort of tired, Paige realized, as the smoke burned her lungs, as her cigarette smoldered between her middle and index fingers.

It was a different kind of worn-out.

And then Alex kissed her, which was another thing Paige was _not_ expecting to happen, but Alex turned and kissed her and Paige kissed her back and it felt like it always did when they kissed, as if they'd been thrown back into the terrible uncertainty of their youth and this was the only thing that mattered.  
Alex had pulled away, flushing, stammering out an apology; Paige hadn't even bothered to listen, had just taken a step in closer, wrapped her arms around Alex's neck and pulled her back in for another kiss.

"Let's get out of here," Paige whispers, and Alex nods.

In the taxi, Alex texts J. Brook to let him know she's gone home -- _terrible headache, drank too much, will see you on Monday_, Paige reads the message while tracing circles on Alex's thigh, kissing her neck. The ride from the school to Paige's hotel feels almost painfully long, especially when Alex tucks her Blackberry back into her purse and slides her hand up Paige's skirt, kissing her roughly.

"You're no good for me," Alex murmurs when they're in the elevator, pressing Paige up against the wall, her mouth on Paige's neck, already beginning to undo the button's on Paige's blouse -- two hundred dollars at Macy's, marked down three-fifty, she'd been absolutely pleased with herself for finding it -- pressing a knee up between Paige's thighs. "No good at all."

"We all like what's not good for us," Paige tells her, and they barely make it into the room; Alex presses Paige against the door, pushing her skirt up around her waist and slipping a hand into Paige's underpants, two fingers sliding against her clit.

"Fuck," Paige breathes, gripping Alex's arm. Then, "Bed, bed, I can't -- "

Alex pulls away. "Come on then," she says in a husky voice, and Paige manages to walk the ten or so feet over to the bed, kicking off her cumbersome high heels and tossing her gray-blue blazer and blouse aside. Alex grins and grabs her wrists, pulls her in and kisses her fiercely.

 

;;

 

There's never been anyone who could compare to Paige, is all Alex can think about, as she drags her tongue along the underside of Paige's breast, down her stomach, across the inside of Paige's thigh. She sits up, kisses Paige properly, nice and slow, slides two fingers into her, loves the way Paige arches up into her touch, all flushed and sweaty and straining, already completely on the edge.

No, she thinks, presses her thumb neatly against Paige. No one could compare.

 

;;

 

"Stay, please," Paige says, when Alex moves to get up.

"I can't," Alex says, and it hurts, to have to say those words. "I love you, Paige. I always will. You know this -- or you _should_ know this. But I can't stay. And that's something you should know just as well. You and I -- we were never meant to last, do you understand? What we have, it's best if it just stays like this, taking those small moments of happiness when they come and not expecting or asking for more. It's the only way we'll get through it."

"I don't want to run anymore," Paige says, on the brink of tears. "I'm tired of running, Alex."

Alex gives her a weak smile, bends down and kisses her forehead, slipping back into her dress. "That's because you're always running _from_ something, Paigey, never _to_ something. It's different, doing things the other way around."

"I love you," Paige tells her quietly, feels tears stinging in her eyes. "I've never said it before, but -- "

"It's okay," Alex says, smiling. "You don't have to say it; I've always known anyway."

She's stepping back into her shoes when Paige comes up behind her, wraps her arms around Paige's waist and buries her face into Alex's shoulder. It smells like soap and sweaty and decidedly like Alex, in a way that she can never explain, like a mix of cigarette smoke and faded Victoria's Secret perfume.

"I'll miss you," she mumbles against Alex."I don't want you to leave."

Alex turns around, kisses her slowly. "Idiot," she says, kisses the bridge of Paige's nose. "You know we'll never really leave each other."

 

;;

 

The apartment is quiet when Alex arrives home, kicking her heels off and shutting the door closed with a soft click. She shrugs off her coat and hangs it up on the coat rack beside the door, deposits her keys and Blackberry on the kitchen counter. In the living room, the television's on, playing the eleven o'clock news; Carla is curled up under a blanket on the couch, asleep.

Alex smiles and sit down on the edge of the couch, leans down and kisses her lightly.

Carla stirs, opens her eyes, blinking rapidly. "Alex?"

"Hi," Alex says. "I'm home."

"I was waiting for you," Carla says, pushing herself up into sitting position and kissing Alex, resting her head on Alex's shoulder. "And then I must have just fallen asleep. How was the reunion?"

"I'm not sure," Alex says, running her fingers lazily up and down the length of Carla's arm. "On the surface, I'd say that it was pretty bad, actually. But in the long term, I think it's a bit too early to tell."

Yes, Alex thinks. Too early to tell.


End file.
